Young Bloods(IC, Reboot Open)

[New Finnish Republic]

Conversation With Aislinn

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Red eyed Aislinn cautiously as she gave her response to his question. While she didn't give an answer he wanted, what she said at least seemed genuine. Whether or not there was any further rationale behind her getting involved in what was arguably one of the more deranged villains the Young Bloods had was yet to be seen, but for the moment at least Red chose to believe her.

Leaning back on his seat, Red let out a small sigh as before he decided to answer her question.

"I suppose I'm your man then. If it means that cold hearted bi- I mean villain can't cause any further than what she's already done, I'd take help from the Devil himself."

Red's mind wandered back to his many encounters with Marionette, recalling everything from his first initial encounter with her at the zoo to their latest fight at the gala. For better or worse, the girl had proven to be the largest thorn in his side thus far in his short time as a hero. While he hated to use such corny words to describe situations, she was certainly the main nemesis to himself, if not the team as a whole. She was dangerous, with her combination of intellect and powers having proven to be more than enough to cause serious harm to even the likes of Casimir. She needed to be taken out, and Red was willing to do whatever it took to make sure it happened.

"I'm sure you're likely already aware of my...relationship with Marionette," Red continued, his eyebrows furrowed as the memories still continued to flash across his mind. "Out of anyone on the team besides possibly Kabuto, I'm the most familiar with her. How she acts, how she fights, and how to beat her. The only thing I don't know at this point is why she does it. If you ask me, that's the key to the whole situation," saying the final portion with a small shake of his head. "Every single time I think I have her cornered, she finds a way to get out of it. She's unpredictable, which is what makes her so hard to make a decisive move against. If you can give me what I need to take her down, I can promise I'll do everything I can to make sure she never gets the chance to hurt anyone else again."

Red looked up at Aislinn, giving her a small grin in the process.

"Just don't expect it to be as heroic of a process as others on the team would deliver."

[Segral]

Whitney Alvord
October 26th

It was like her words had stepped over a landmine on Angelica's heart, blowing off the seal and letting every feeling inside gush out like blood. In all honesty, Whitney wasn't quite sure what response she had been expecting to her question. 'I'm too worried about Mars and everyone else to go to sleep.'? 'I can't stop thinking about what happened in there.', maybe? Nightmares probably would've been the logical answer, and it was the only one she wasn't prepared for. It wasn't that she was scared or creeped out, it wasn't like whatever she was hearing was that descriptive, it was that she felt...awkward. Guilty, guilty for causing this, like she had been caught red-handed at SOMETHING, something she didn't really know. All she could really do was stare at her own hands clasped up on the table with a growing heat creeping into her neck and face as Angelica continued to look right over her shoulder, explaining how she couldn't stop watching people die at night to the world's worst therapist.

She looked up at the sound of the sparking though, just in time to watch charred holes begin to expand across Angelica's skirt, at least wherever they weren't covered by her hands clenching the fabric in a deathly vice grip. The resulting mental alarm bell was enough to make her keep looking up, all the way up to a face that bore no trace of movement aside from the flow of tears streaming down two cheeks in perfectly equal viscosity, perfectly equal depth. Whitney had to say something, anything to calm her new friend down. It was her fault that they were even in this mess. If only she had kept her stupid eyelids open...

"Hey, hey, hey..." Whitney stuttered out, leaning forward in her chair to gently put a hand on the crying girl's shoulder, silently hoping that she wouldn't shrug or push it away. A second hand moved to Angelica's knee in an attempt to gently tug her hand away from her knee and prevent any further cigarette-burn-type marks, but they were met with incredibly tough resistance from the sheer strength of the hand's grip, leading her to simply relent and allow the hand to be something comforting. "Relax. No one's dying, nobody here anyways. You're safe, A-Angie, you're...okay. You're okay. I'm...I'm going to crack a window." she said as gently as possible, patting the girl on the shoulder as she stood up and zombie-shuffle-walked to the window at the side of the room, going through the process of cracking a pane open. It was surprisingly difficult to get the latches open, her fingers refusing to cooperate with the slightly rusted metal, but after what felt like slightly too much effort, she was able to push the whole thing outwards, letting it swing open and a fast gush of cold air replace it, a welcome jolt for her drooping eyelids. She even reached for a smoke out of instinct, before realizing that she had none in her pocket.

"There. Fresh air always helps me when I get upset, or lose my senses." Whitney said in her best attempt at 'soothing' possible, leaning between the wall and the window frame as a long silence began to lapse between the two. "I have watched someone die before, y'know." she continued at last, her voice taking on a wistful quality as her eyes drifted towards the ceiling. My dad's side has always had clean bills of health, but my mom's had a history of cancer. My grandmother on her side died when I was...eleven, I wanna say. Ovarian, Stage 4. It wasn't pretty. They were draining fluid like a fountain out of her. She was in palliative care for a while, and one day, my parents...my mom, actually, she just...pulled the plug. Decided to cease treatment. I was so scared, I kept asking the nurse if she was in any pain, if she could feel anything. She must've felt something, I'm sure of it, but whatever it was, it wasn't, y'know, painful or begging, it was...quiet. Peaceful. She just stopped breathing, stopped moving, her body just went...limp. Like...when you pull an all-nighter to study, and you finally collapse in bed at 3:00 PM after taking that stupid exam. You just soften, slip away. It was like that. Over in a second. No light, no begging for second chances, just...gone."

"For a long time, I was upset, upset that she had died, and upset at my parents for letting her die. But now...I don't know, I think she wanted to go like that. I think she was happy to finally not have to live with her kidneys and her glands destroyed, her muscles not obeying her brain. She didn't want a second chance. She was too much of a stubborn old bitch for it." Whitney said with a slight giggle, before her tone and face sobered up again. "People always die, Angie. They die, and there's nothing we can do to stop it. Sometimes it's unfair, sometimes they get what they deserve. It just happens. But you know Roy would burn San Diego to the ground before letting one of us die on his watch, and you know Mars would do the same in a heartbeat. We would've stopped them, I know we would've. And it'll never happen again, because we know better now, and we'll do better now. Okay?"

---

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Whitney Alvord
November 14th

Angie practically seemed to explode with happiness at Whitney's proposal, grabbing Whitney's hands and nearly yanking her down to eye-level as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. Any second now, and she would start ricocheting off the walls and ceiling. It was sweet, and really, it was nice to see her friend so happy and excited, especially to the point where it was contagious, and it was making her feel all happy and excited. How long had it been since she had seen snow, real, proper, non-synthetic, non-commercially-sold snow? How long had it been since she had left San Diego, for that matter? She loved the place, but there was only so long you could walk through the same streets and visit the same neighborhoods before it all became dull, the same old trip every time. The mountains though, that was...adventurous, and...thrilling, and...what she needed, what she had always needed. It was perfect for her.

"Alright, alright, it's a yes!" Whitney said with a laugh, struggling to lock her knees in place to avoid being pulled up and down by Angie's hops. "I'll ask them, and if they need convincing, I'll do that too, although I doubt they will. They'll be so glad to find out that I have a real social life that they'll agree to practically anything I run by them." she joked, pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face as she spoke. It gave her a clearer view of the shorter girl in front of her, and for a moment, she appeared locked in that view, looking down at Angie with an odd, unidentifiable expression written across her face. And then, with a sudden movement, she pulled the girl in for a quick, stiff hug, about as close to a bro-hug as you could get from two teenage girls. "Thank you, Angie. Really." she said quietly, releasing her to arm's reach and looking down to face her. "You don't know how much I appreciate it that you chose...me, y'know?" she asked, a question that she hoped would have a positive response. She would never know though, because before Angie could even answer, a call from the entrance to the living room caught everyone's attention. Turning around on her heel to face the doorway, she saw Viviana and Mars barring the exit, the latter with something quite peculiar in his hand.

"Oh, hellll no."

---

There was no way Kiris was going to hit that thing. There was no way anybody was going to hit that thing. It was nice to know that Boy Genius was keeping busy in that lab instead of moping, but honestly, this was one of his more...hare-brained ideas. All scientists had them. Once upon a time for her, making super-stimulating fertilizer was the coolest thing in the world, but once you realize that the only people in need of super-stimulating fertilizer is some amateur weed farmer growing out of a closet somewhere in the Condemned District, it suddenly becomes something that was better left on the drawing board in hindsight. A rocket-powered piñata was probably an awesome idea in Mr. Baker's physics class, but the moment someone jumps too far and clocks their face on a super-hot engine, well...back to the drawing board.

To Mars' credit, it did look pretty cool for being made of paper-mache, and to his girlfriend's credit, she made quick work of the thing. Sure, she didn't knock it down, but one rocket down was a solid dent, more than good enough for anybody else to follow up on. Well, anybody else excluding a few people, herself included. No way she was testing her luck on that, especially not with evil-hellspawn-wolf slobber all over the stick. "God, I hate that thing." Whitney shuddered to herself at whisper-volume, using all of her might to avoid physically cringing into her jacket as the beast slunk by licking its teeth. Big dogs were one danger by themselves, alien space wolves? Nope. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Stepping up to the rocket-powered party favor? Do not pass go, do not collect $200.

"So...I presume neither of us are testing our luck with that thing?" she muttered in Angie's ear to her right, making a slight gesture with her chin towards the 'thing' in question.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

November 19th

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"No, ya helped out a lot! If ya didn't keep the clones busy I wouldn't have been able to catch the rest." Kiris quickly replied to Wyatt as he mentioned that she and Shi seemed to have everything under control. "But thanks for the compliment!" She added with a smile.

Glancing over to Shi, the Hadrian glanced over and noticed that she had managed to take out the original single-handedly. As Wyatt walked over to restrain the colonel like he had done with the two incapacitated soldiers, Kirisvala instead turned back and sang out a single sustained note. The crystal prison turned to dust that dissipated in the air, and what was left was the sight not of the clones that had been trapped within, but of several globs of biomatter lying harmlessly on the floor. Realizing that the defeat of the original had gotten rid of them, she sighed in relief and moved towards the others.

"Good job takin' him out, Princess! Those copies won't be botherin' us anymore." The alien girl said, offering the taller girl a big smile and a double thumbs up. "The others should be fine, with that guy out cold the clones disappeared. But we should regroup anyway." She said after hearing Wyatt's suggestion. They still needed to figure out what their next move was going to be, after all. With that in mind, she jumped down the gap in the middle of the stairwell, breaking her fall by grabbing onto an intact piece of railing that left her hanging just above the floor level. Dropping down, she moved back to the lobby.

"Is everythin' alright over here?" She called out as she poked her head in through the doors.

What she learned, however, let her know that things were far from alright. She caught the tail end of a transmission made by a rebellious general staging a coup, and the conversation between Renata and the clerk revealed to her that the heiress' father was in danger. She frowned at this, and the broken voice with which the Ecuadorian girl apologized to everyone for dragging them into something like this only made Kiris feel worse for her.

Striding forward with a resolute pace, the pink-haired girl pulled her friend into a warm, tender hug, hoping to comfort her when she was going through a crisis and clearly losing hope. "I'm not leavin' ya Renata. You're my friend, of course I'm gonna help ya out." She stated. "I know ya didn't mean any harm, don't worry. If ya need our help in keepin' your family safe, then Marsy and I are more than willin'." She added after a moment, and then stepped back to give the girl some space, coming to a stop next to Mars. Her hand finding its way to his, she looked at him and smiled, happy to be with someone so brave.

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Before long, Casimir jumped to action, making short work of the remaining clones now that they were fully restrained and unable to move or defend themselves. As soon as the last one was down for the count, Icarus released all of his constructs, breathing a sigh of relief as the burden on him dissipated. He watched as Renata promptly headed outside to converse with the employee that Mars had saved earlier, though he couldn't have possibly predicted the events that followed said conversation. His phone began vibrating and he fished it out of his pocket, only to see a transmission that was as alarming as it was shocking - in short, a general declared their insurrection against the Condor government before signing off.

Icarus was completely silent after that. It was plenty surprising already to find himself in the middle of a military coup d'État when he had come here to take a break from hero work under the Stars, but the fact that it was against the Condor government left him... conflicted.

But now was not the time for that, and seeing how heartbroken his girlfriend was over the revelation, as well as the realization that she had more or less dragged them into this, was more than enough to convince him that now wasn't the time for doubt. Taking a step towards her, he was surprised to see that a few of her teammates beat him to the punch, all of them offering their aid to the heiress and comforting her. Not wanting to fail in this regard, he too approached and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly to show that he was there by her side.

"I'm with you as well, asteri mou." He told her softly. "I know you never meant for this to happen, it's not your fault. And I don't think anyone here wants to lose your father." He said, a slight frown on his face as he uttered those words. He knew very well the pain of losing a parent, of seeing a tragedy happen right before your eyes, he knew it all too well, and he wouldn't wish it upon his worst enemy.

He made an effort to soften his gaze. Now was not the time to appear upset or threatening. Instead, he moved his hand to her other shoulder and pulled her closer. "I'm with you all the way, and so are they." He spoke, gesturing towards the people who had already volunteered to tag along with her on her effort to rescue her father. Casimir, Viviana, Mars and Kirisvala, adding up to a total of six - and if what he knew about the Young Bloods was accurate he was sure that many more of those who had come on the vacation would be more than willing to help her out, as well.

"So, what do we do? Do you have a plan?"

[Bentus]

Yoshiro Namaka - Psyche
Ecuador

---

Yoshiro took another sip from her water bottle as she made her way back from the hotel’s gym. After the rest of the team had taken the day off to go to the beach, she had quickly started to feel useless just sitting alone in her room. At first, she’d thought that some time by herself would have been just what the doctor ordered, but instead Yoshiro had just found herself cooped up with the same thoughts she’d been trying to push to the back of her head. Fortunately, she’d found a way to burn off some steam before she’d driven herself completely stir crazy.

Sighing in satisfaction as she pulled her bottle away, Yoshiro enjoyed the quiet fatigue emanating from her body. A workout had been just what she’d needed, she decided. Cooping herself up inside had been a bad idea, although she doubted that going along with the rest of the team would’ve made her feel any better. No, some exercise to clear her head in the middle of an otherwise quiet and uneventful day was the perfect kind of vacation for her right now. But seriously? You get a chance to travel to Ecuador of all places, and all you’re going to be able to say is that you sat in your hotel room and ran on a treadmill. Really being an adventurous spirit, Yoshi.

Ignoring the condescending tone in her head, Yoshiro hummed to herself as she walked past the hotel’s outdoor pool. She was nearly through the outdoor courtyard when she paused mid-step as something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Turning towards the pool, she raised an eyebrow in surprise as she saw a lone figure floating silently atop one of those pool rafts that she knew you could rent from the front desk. The figure didn’t seem to have noticed her appearance, and was simply lying on her back, staring up towards the sky.

“Ash?” Yoshiro asked, her surprised voice breaking the silence as she pulled out one of her earbuds. “What are you doing here, I thought you’d gone to the beach with the others?”

Caught off guard by the other girl’s voice, Ash jolted on her inflatable raft. Briefly flailing around as the pool toy swayed dangerously beneath her, the mutant quickly managed to regain her balance as she turned towards Yoshiro. Recovering from her initial surprise, Ash offered the other girl a sheepish smile.

“Oh, Yoshi!” She eventually managed, a hint of colour touching her cheeks as she felt a tinge of embarrassment at being caught avoiding the team. “I - um…” The girl tried to think quickly, scratching her mind for a believable excuse. “I decided to stay and keep an eye on the rooms. Heroes must never completely lower their guard while evil can lurk behind every corner, yes?”

Yoshiro raised an eyebrow at Ash’s explanation. “Oh, I guess that makes sense. That’s really nice of you, choosing to take on some responsibility like that.” She hardly needed to be a psychic in order to guess that something else was up. “Although in that case, how are you keeping an eye on the rooms from down here?”

Unprepared for the follow on question, Ash’s expression turned blank. “Oh, yes. I do suppose that is a very good point.” Shifting uneasily, the mutant offered the other girl a forced smile. “I guess that I wanted the fresh air for a bit. And from here I can still keep an eye on the rooms’ windows, yes?”

Immediately regretting that she’d made the other girl uncomfortable, Yoshiro smiled in response. “Ah, gotcha. And don’t worry about it, Ash - I’m sure everyone appreciates you keeping an eye on their stuff while they’re out. Although I don’t think we’re in too much danger here.” The girl chuckled. “After all, Renata’s dad pretty much runs the place.” Without much care for human rights or a free press, apparently. Yoshiro thought, somewhat bitterly, to herself.

An awkward silence began to descend between the pair as Yoshi tried to think of what she could say next. Rubbing the back of her head, she gestured with a thumb towards the hotel entrance. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Ash. I better be going to take a shower - I bet that I totally stink right now.” Turning to leave, Yoshiro hesitated for just a moment. “Hey, I have to ask. Is everything else alright, Ash? You’ve been kind of...I don’t know...distant.”

Blinking in surprise, Ash’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to think of how to respond. Her first instinct was to brush aside Yoshi’s concerns, waving one of her hands to dismiss her fears and insist that everything was still as it was. And yet, something caused the mutant to wring together her two lower arms. It was true that she had kept mostly to herself since Red and Casimir had helped her learn about her past. She’d made them promise not to tell anyone else until she was ready, but then it had just felt easier not to mention it at all - as if it happened at all.

“Oh, I am fine.” Ash eventually replied, although her voice was hardly convincing. Taking a breath, she looked up to Yoshi as she continued. “I mean, I am just feeling a little bit...sad, I think.” Seeing the look of concern leap onto the psychic’s features, the mutant hastily added. “But it is nothing that I cannot handle, I promise.”

“Oh, I see.” Yoshiro answered, immediately realising that her concerns had been well-founded. Even though Ash seemed to be trying to stay tight-lipped, she bet that she deep-down wanted to open up about whatever it was that was eating at her.

I mean, I’m not doing anything else right now. And she could really use someone to talk to. She would’ve thought that the mutant would have opened up immediately about anything on her mind to Casimir, but he might’ve also maybe not been the best source of advice when it came to things like this. He always struck her as just being able to blow through any concerns through sheer force of will. Glancing around the poolside, a lightbulb lit in Yoshiro’s head as she spied a vending machine standing by the wall.

“Hey, Ash. Would you be down for an ice cream? I might as well grab one before heading upstairs.”

Immediately, the girl’s antennae perked up at the prospect of an ice-cold treat. Thinking the offer over for a moment, Ash responded with a nod. Smiling as the mutant seemed to be willing to open up a little, Yoshiro turned to fetch a pair of vanilla and chocolate cones. As she did so, Ash lifted herself off of her raft and flew over to the dry pool side. By the time Yoshiro returned to hand her her treat, the mutant was sitting and waiting for her with her legs dangling into the water.
Taking her cue to sit beside the other heroine, Yoshiro waited patiently in silence as the pair began to work their way through their ice creams. She’d made it clear that the door was open, but she knew better than to try to force Ash into a conversation that she didn’t want to have. And eventually, the mutant did hesitantly break the silence between them.

“Yoshi, what are your parents like?”

---

“Wow.”

It was all that Yoshiro could say after Ash had completed recounting her story, laying out everything from the few scattered memories she’d started to recollect, to Red and Casimir helping her figure out her past, to the moment that her dreams and expectations had come crashing down at the orphanage’s door. Frowning as she felt a stab of empathy for the other girl, Yoshiro felt a genuine sympathy for the mutant.

“Wow, Ash. I’m so sorry that you had to go through all this.” She said, turning to look towards Ash. “That all sounds like it was horrible.” As she was still wrapping her head around all of this sudden information, Yoshiro felt a growing tide of guilt in her chest. “I didn’t mean to make you bring this all up. I had no idea about what you were going through, and I can’t even imagine how confusing it all has to be.”

Wiping away a silent tear, Ash sniffled as she replied. “No, you must not apologize.” She took a breath, offering Yoshiro a faint smile. “I think that I feel better after telling you. Thank you for listening. It is just that I was very much looking forward to finding my family, and I suppose that I am glad that I have answers now. It is just…” Ash’s voice trailed off. “It is just that I do not know what I am supposed to do now. I always thought that I would know who I am after I found my parents, but I think that I just feel…” Ash hesitated for a moment before continuing, “...the same.”

Seeing the tumultuous emotions moving across the other girl’s face, Yoshiro reached out and squeezed one of the mutant’s hands. She offered Ash a firm smile of support. “Hey, we’re all trying to figure out who we are. I guess that’s part of growing up, right? But we’re all here for you, Ash. No matter what, we’ve got your back. Always.”

“Thank you.” Ash said, actually feeling a warmth in her chest from Yoshiro’s words. “That does help, I think. It means very much to me.” Suddenly feeling awkward as she realised exactly how long she must have been pouring out her concerns, Ash realised how one-sided their conversation had been. Pausing, she turned to offer Yoshiro a curious look. “But...I still do not know, Yoshi. Why are you here and not at the beach with the others?”
Yoshiro immediately shrugged at the question. “Oh, I just didn’t feel like it.” She offered the other girl a joking wink. “Plus, I’d hate myself if I used a vacation as an excuse to skip a workout. A hero has to make sure that she’s always in tip-top shape, right?”

Ash appeared to be satisfied with the response, nodding along with Yoshiro’s words. Inwardly, Yoshi felt some relief at that. While she had her own things to worry about, they were nothing compared to what her friend must have been going through. It would’ve been rude for her to bring up her own problems at a time like this. And besides, it wasn’t anything that she couldn’t deal with herself.

“Oh, that does make sense.” Ash said, although her stomach suddenly growled loudly. Grinning, she was about to propose that the pair get some dinner when a loud crack tore through the air. Almost immediately, the mutant’s antennae stiffened while Yoshiro turned towards the noise. Ash frowned. “What was that?”

Getting up, Yoshiro didn’t immediately respond as she reached out with her powers to see an increasing number of auras coalescing in the lobby. Oh no, what’s going on.

“I’m...not sure. But that almost sounded like a gunshot.”

[North America Inc]

Wyatt

Renata

Kiris

Shihong Smith

---

Making his way over to them, Wyatt restrained the unconscious man while making a few compliments about her skill. It was always great to hear, even if she feigned humility. The Dra'Qunni hoisted the man onto his shoulders, adding, "Great work Princess. You think we should check on the others?"

Shi nodded along, "Yes though only the immediate threat has been dealt with..." She paused for a moment, replaying the sight of armored vehicles patrolling the streets, "We can't stay here for long, it won't be long before their superiors send more." Just as she finished, Kiris regrouped with the pair, offering her own assortment of praises. Shi played along and blushed, "Thanks, you did two did great giving me room to breathe." A few more comments were shared among the trio, but eventually the three of them headed downstairs to regroup; while Kiris dropped down, Shi stayed close to Wyatt, waiting for the colonel to wake up. She had a few questions she wanted to ask.

The lobby was a muddled mess of clone splotches, destroyed furniture, and the occasional indent into the wall. A few lights from the streets, whether that be from a vehicle or a street lamp, creeped through the entrance, though there was no sign of an encroaching force. Shi hung back for a few minutes, listening to the defiant speech, Renata's remarks, and the repetitious drone of solace and empathy. Not that she expected anything different their response and their decision to stay was well within their character. Though she was not entirely unopposed to this. While the Council has to be aware, I can't wait until a response. The end to the regime was problematic, moreso if this is Lycan's doing. But a group of foreigners casually intervening in a coup out in the open doesn't have the best optics. Hmm how should I play this?

Icarus was consoling his girlfriend when Shi spoke up; her arms crossed but she still injected the right amount of sympathy, "Besides the palace where else would your father go?" She turned towards the clerk and asked a similar question, "Have you heard anything about loyalist forces? However small."

[The Republic of Atria]

Bael

"Thanks Kiris." He smiled a bit and noticed Shi appeared to enjoy being complimented, even blushing a little. Her and Kiris agreed that they should get back to the lobby pretty quickly, though Bael ultimately decided that keeping the Colonel would be a smarter plan since it would give them, hopefully, a little bit of leverage if they needed to negotiate. So he threw the man over his shoulder and headed down with Kiris and Shi, regrouping with the rest of the team. Though the lobby was clearly in rough shape, as if it was the epicenter between a battle between a half dozen superhumans. As they arrived, Renata was busy talking about what everyone had already assumed, that a coup was going on and that she completely understood if they wanted to go home because of everything.

"Renata," He said, adjusting his grip on his prisoner who was not happy about being held like a sack of potatoes, "Do you really think we're just going to leave you here to deal with all of this all by yourself? We've had this conversation before: We're a TEAM." He said trying to comfort her a bit. "Things happen, they're not your fault, but do you really think, after everything we've been through together, that we're just going to hang you out to dry? I know not everyone gets along perfectly with each other, but I doubt there's a single person, here or not, that wouldn't help you if given the chance.

"Also, we took down this guy." He said, pointing with his free hand to the struggling Colonel. "I don't know if he'll be much use, but hey, if he doesn't stop squirming, maybe he'll make a good club." He said, making the implied threat as obvious as possible, assuming he understood English.

"Besides, Naja would kill me if I just left you here with a pat on the shoulder and "good luck"". He said, clearly joking in an attempt to lighten the mood.

[Finland SSR]

Casimir and Viviana November 19th

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Mars

November 19th

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Shihong Smith

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Bael

Renata Martinez, the heroic Stella!

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One after another, Renata's teammates stood forth and announced that they shall not leave her alone. Casimir and Viviana assured her that she will have them by her side, Mars joined them, then Icarus, Shi and Wyatt, Kiris went as far as to give the girl a comforting hug... the sudden display of support surprised even her, but she chose to not dwell on the fact and flashed a smile while speaking:

"...Thanks, everyone, I-I don't know how I'll be able to repay you all for this..." With so many friends by their side, how could they possibly fail? The hotel clerk watched the display of affection before his eyes with a solemn frown, and as soon as Renata said her thanks, he continued:

"I hope you all don't get to see yourselves regret what you're doing. It's noble to help, sure, but this is politics, not your usual superhero games." The statement set Renata's mood - she folded her arms, briefly losing herself in thought. They had to figure out a plan, but before that, Shi raised a handful of important questions she wanted to address first.

"I doubt my father would be somewhere else in a siege like this," Renata finally answered. "The Carondelet Palace hides an underground fortress almost two hundred meters deep, it's a labyrinth staffed by the most loyal of the most loyal in the Army command, and it has enough supplies to last for a long time. Evacuating it would just put my dad at an even greater disadvantage."

"There are loyalists in Quito and I hear there's been sporadic fighting, but the issue is that everything General Torres has seems to be bearing down on the city. While I don't doubt the forces outside Quito are mostly loyal, they can't hear anything more than rumors. We're in radio silence right now," the clerk answered the question presented to him, which got Renata to turn towards him to bounce off a possible idea:

"We could try opening contact with someone outside of the city. I'd say we have enough firepower to force ourselves into the TV tower, right?"

The clerk remained silent. "...General Escobar, perhaps?" Renata dropped her hands, took a breath and replied:

"You sure he'll be on our side?" The man in question was Francisco Escobar, the commander of the republic's forces in the periphery. When it came to dealing with insurgents in the jungles and mountains, he was the one who stood on the front lines - with predictable controversy, and the man himself came off almost sociopathic in the two or three times Renata got to meet him herself, but it's not like they had the ability to choose at this point. The clerk shrugged his shoulders briefly and answered:

"I don't know - but if he isn't, then probably nobody is. He knows your father well, if I remember correctly, and positioned in the mountains he can hardly afford rebellion. It's all just a guess from my part, of course - all I know is from keeping up with the news and what I hear from my friends in the Assembly. Speaking of guesses, from what I understand, the periphery forces have a helicopter fleet, so if Escobar is informed, he should come to aid very quickly, yes?"

"That's true, we travelled around the jungle in those helicopters back in the Condors..." Renata muttered under her breath, thinking, then suddenly turning around and glancing through the glass door.

"Alright, I think I have an idea! We'll have to divide ourselves into two groups, since we have to both help my Dad and get a message out..." The girl then turned around once again, stopped by the table and picked up a paper upon which she marked down a name and, once her memory allowed it, a few numbers.

"When you get out of the hotel, you're going to see a really tall TV tower in the distance, probably a kilometer or two away. I'm guessing it's occupied by Torres' troops, so what we'll need to do is to clear it out and get the workers in there to send a message out to the east of the country," the girl began to explain, then pulled out an ID card from her pocket and placed it next to the paper. "With this, they should know which side you're on, and the paper will tell them where and what to send. If I remember what Dad said last year correctly, there's several pre-recorded messages in the database of the Tower's computers saved for such an occasion already, they just need to be greenlit and sent."

She picked up the paper and the card and held it in her hand, before handing it to Mizu, who had been standing by silently. "I'll head towards the Carondelet Palace, myself. Chances are that what Torres sent to capture me is meager compared to what he'll probably use to take down my father, so... those whose best skills are throwing punches should probably stick by me."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

October 30th

---

Previous part

Next part

"Helvete!"

Adrian's curse echoed through the inner sanctum as he stepped back to distance himself from the hierophant, whose shriveled corpse had risen from the ground and swiped at him with violent intent. Disturbed by the sight of something he thought impossible, the sorcerer nonetheless reacted swiftly, and as the carcass moved to attack him again, he brought up his sword in retaliation. Tainted flesh and decayed bone easily gave in to the sharp metal blade, and the hierophant's arm fell to the ground, severed. She felt no pain, however, and continued to claw at Adrian with animalistic rage. The young man changed his focus from defense to offense, dodging the first few swipes before viciously hacking at the hierophant's legs. All it took was two blows for them to be rendered useless, but still she dragged herself across the floor towards him with her sole functioning arm, the sight of it repulsive.

"What in all the hells... How...?" The sorcerer mused aloud, incredulous. But soon enough the darkness put forth an answer.

"Simple. It is no longer Grizmahir's power that animates them, but mine." A voice spoke from behind him. It was high-pitched and soft, and despite the faint otherworldly echo that it carried, it was clear that it belonged to someone much younger than him. The kind of voice a child would have.

The sorcerer turned to look at the figure standing by the inner sanctum's entrance, and felt his blood run cold. Over seven years had passed since that fateful morning, but the sight had been etched into his mind of a boy in a black cloak, a few loose strands of white hair visible underneath the hood, eyes bright blue like the heart of a flame and a strange marking over the left eye. He had seen it for but an instant, but he still remembered it clear as day, and it was that very same figure who now stood at the sole entrance to the enclosure, dimly illuminated by the faint light of the braziers' dying red flames.

"You seem surprised." The boy spoke with amusement in his voice, as the risen bodies of the other cultists marched up to stand behind him - although shambled was likely the more fitting term. "Don't be. I have no intention of harming you if you comply with my demands." He said, before extending a finger towards the hierophant's carcass. Immediately, the bones came apart and scattered. "That one just got out of control."

Adrian tightened his grip on his sword, knowing well that he couldn't underestimate this foe. Instinct and reason alike told him that his best option was to escape - his body was fatigued from all the fighting, and his extensive use of magic was beginning to take a toll on him. But even then, there was something holding him back, an irrational part of him that beckoned him to fight. A voice that cried vengeance.

Though he'd taken no action thus far, the boy noticed his demeanor and after a momentary confusion seemed to realize something. "Oh! Have we met before?" He said with a smile. "That does not tend to happen with the living, but it makes things easier. Hand me your weapon and you may leave."

"Why would someone like you want it?" He said defensively, hoping to buy some time while he assessed the situation. He still retained control over the creatures he had summoned earlier, and a group of reanimated cultists shouldn't be too hard to deal with, but...

"You don't need to concern yourself with that." The boy replied. "Suffice to say, I have some peers that are known for being remarkably difficult to kill, and a weapon like yours would make for a wonderful safeguard in case things turn sour." He said, without once losing his carefree smile. Waiting for the sorcerer to comply, he extended his hand towards him, palm facing up. "You seem to be all done here, surely you won't miss it."

The scowl already present on Adrian's face only seemed to intensify at these words. The thought that even someone like that had an enemy he feared offered some meager comfort, but that would not help him here. Still, if he was reluctant to simply escape, he was far more opposed to handing over the cursed blade. Instead of responding verbally, he first pointed the weapon at the boy with a flick of his wrist. As if on cue, the creatures still under his command rushed towards their master's foe, while he stood back for a moment, the markings on his arms shifting.

"I had hoped you would be smart enough to accept and move on." The boy sighed as he too gestured at his host to attack. "Oh well. I will take it from your cold fingers when I'm done with you, then. Or perhaps I'll make you bow down and present it to me, that would be fun."

On the boy's command, the reanimated carcasses of the fallen cultists began crawling forward. With none of the dignity of a living being, they moved on all fours with a mindless ferocity. Their fragile bones snapped and splintered but they felt no pain nor discomfort and continued in their reckless charge, throwing themselves at the three hellhounds that led the pack of monsters. The seething creatures tore flesh and bone apart with their fangs and their claws, but the dead did not seem to care, bashing and clawing at the beasts. Behind them, two golems and a great winged stone beast loomed.

Taking advantage of the chaotic battle going on between the summoned creatures and the dead cultists, Adrian moved out of a portal that had opened behind the hooded boy, darting forward in an attempt to strike at him with the cursed blade and end the battle quickly.

His movements had not gone unnoticed, however. With a flick of his wrist, the boy caused several bone fragments to fly from where they sat straight towards Adrian, burying themselves in his arm with enough force to stop it mid-swing. The young man grunted, nearly dropping the sword.

"You would stab me in the back just like that? Have you no heart?" The boy spoke with more than a little amusement.

"You're no innocent child, Necromancer." Adrian hissed as he backed away from the villain, his surprise attack having failed. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out the bone shards embedded in his flesh, blood seeping out of his wounds. He could still feel and move his arm, and his mind could ignore the pain, but that did not mean he was doing well. More bone projectiles flew towards him, but he managed to dodge or block most of them.

Necromancer, meanwhile, turned to look at the creatures under the sorcerer's thrall. The hellhounds had prevailed, and the other creatures ground what remained of the cultists into dust. All of them began advancing towards the hooded boy, but he simply smiled and thrust his arms towards the ceiling.

"I call upon the souls of the ancient dead!" He proclaimed, the ghastly echo of his voice growing in intensity. Suddenly, Adrian felt as though there was a pressure bearing down on him and the rest of the enclosure, not physical in nature, but rather spiritual. As if his very ego was being battered by the vortex of the dark emotions of a hundred screaming souls. Around the inner sanctum, strange visions materialized, figures clad in ancient suits of armor and wielding archaic weapons, their featureless visages displaying no sign of thinking. They were colorless and translucent, as though they weren't fully there, but the sorcerer had a feeling that their weapons would feel real enough if they were to touch him.

Most of these phantasmal warriors made their way to the summoned creatures, bringing their weapons to bear on the flesh of the hellhounds and the rocky armor of the golems and the winged beast. The first were quickly dispatched with the aid of ghastly steel, but the souls met their match as they attempted to fight against the stone creatures. In any case, however, it was enough to distract them, keeping them away from the dark child.

Some of those warriors, however, headed towards Adrian instead, preparing to take down the sorcerer and claim his weapon for their master. One of them lunged at him with a spear, with Adrian narrowly sidestepping the thrust to avoid being skewered. In retaliation he thrust his free hand towards the phantom. The markings on his arm glowed darkly, and a blast of arcane fire engulfed the apparition, dispersing his shape. Another lashed out with a curved sword, but the sorcerer quickly dropped and then stabbed upwards, managing to wound his attacker in the midsection. Instead of bleeding, or dissipating like his comrade had done, the phantom itself was quickly corroded, a blackness spreading through and erasing it in a matter of moments.

"So it does erode the soul as well as the body! That is fascinating." Necromancer spoke as he watched the sorcerer struggle against the army of ghosts. With a palisade of spectral lancers holding the stone fiends at bay, the hooded boy sent more of the warriors after Adrian, who struggled to fend them off. With his arm wounded, his swordplay was not nearly as good as it might have been, and his exhaustion was beginning to dull his senses and slow him down. The runes on his cape protected him from a few close call at first, but they depleted quickly enough, leaving him open to harm - the ghosts' stabs and slashes began leaving thin red marks on his body as a result, though he managed to avoid large gashes and gaping stab wounds.

Finally, as he attempted to send out another stream of arcane flame against the spectral host, the mystical symbols on his arm became bathed in searing fire. A moment later, a powerful shockwave sent him and his sword flying against the far wall - the sword clattered to the ground harmlessly, and the sorcerer fell to the ground, his body driven to utter exhaustion and his consciousness rapidly fading as the edges of his world became dark. He had finally overstepped the limits of the power he could harness, and the explosive, violent reaction that followed was a natural result.

During the last few moments that he had managed to cling to his consciousness, he saw powerful ghosts rise among their peers and use their blades and fists to destroy the stone fiends. He saw the dark child approach to take the cursed weapon he had come here to reclaim.

Then, he felt dark tendrils wrap around his arms, his legs and his torso, and saw something similar happen to the sword that lay next to him. He heard Necromancer protest and scream as his treasure was suddenly yanked away, out of sight. With barely a moment left before he finally faded away, Adrian couldn't help but chuckle, even as the dark tendrils began tugging on him, pulling him through the wall and into another world.

"Faen ta deg."

[The Templar High Council]

Andrew Donovan, The Beach

Andrew waved off Zoe's lateness and looked to Tidal to tell them exactly what he had planned. Tidal however had already moved, grasping Zoe's hand gingerly and cupping it.

"Hello Impulse. Andrew never told me I'd be hurting a pretty face today. Oh well." Releasing his grasp, the ocean's tide pulled him to a small rock formation a good thirty yards out, never dragging him below three soles of his shoes and never tipping his perfect balance. The nearby ocean swelled as the aquatic hero shouted out.

"From the video that every has seen, it's clear your team has an issue with dodging. Especially Andrew here. So, we are going to work on that today! The rules for the following exercise are simple! You simply have to hit me, projectile or with your hand. However, if you are touched by water, wherever was hit is out of use! A foot or leg means you are on one leg. A hand or arm means it goes behind your back. A chest or head is game over, and you must wait until your teammate is taken down before we restart. Ill dry you off after every round. Snacks are at three. I have sandwiches for five. I can go at this for hours if I must, but I'm not going after sundown. Please beat me by then, or we are going to repeat this tomorrow, starting in the morning. Any questions?"

" Yeah, why are you going easy on us?"

In response to Andrew's taunt, the sea resided to form a large circle of water around the older hero, hundreds of tendrils growing at high speeds and stretching outward. Then, through the tendrils, an answer was given.

"I'm not."

"Oh fuck..."

The tendrils shot forward at the two Young Bloods, coming from every direction but behind. The entire ocean expanse seemed to rush at them all at once, hundreds of gallons of whip-like structures. Then suns rays reflected off them putting on a small light show, but the chance to appreciate it was far from available. Andrew dodged to the back, looking for an opening, but for every move he was just forced in a new direction, even taking to the air not stopping the pursuit. Inside the bible, Tidal deftly used the water to dodge projectiles. The game has begun.

Zoe Foster - Impulse
Some Beach, San Diego
November 20th

Zoe laughed nervously at Tidal's forward greeting and compliment, and after she finished shaking his hand she stepped back towards Andrew. "So what's the deal? You said we were here for training?" Not another moment had passed before Tidal started heading out into the bay and explaining himself fully. Zoe didn't have much in the way of rebuttal when he commented on their lack of dodging, and she didn't think that trying to tell him that she could generally take the hits would go very far. Instead, she stood there and listened, fidgeting with her feet in the sand until Tidal finished talking. Zoe didn't think it'd be as easy as Andrew thought it would be, and she was proven correct as the ocean came to life around them.

Just like Andrew, Zoe's initial movement was back. She leaped away, sending a small cloud of sand up as she retreated. "Just hit him!? I can't fly, I don't know what he thinks the plan is supposed to be!" While she complained, Zoe continued to dodge the water whips, as her mind raced to keep up with her footwork and think up a plan at the same time. He did say projectiles were allowed... Zoe glanced behind her to the rocky ridge she climbed down to reach the beach. Before another torrent of water splashed into her position, she zipped further away from the shoreline to collect a two fistfuls of throwing-sized rocks. "Hey Andrew, want some ammo?" Zoe started to race back towards him, prepared to toss a couple rocks to him and hope that he would catch them if needed.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Time is a storm in which we are all lost

---

Previous part

It is a strange thing when the mind awakens and knows not where or when or why it is. Barely even aware that it is, it uses its meager resources to painstakingly dispel the shroud of darkness that it finds upon itself, until at last there is consciousness and sensation and some semblance of clarity.

For Adrian, the result of this process was that he gained awareness of the cacophony of pain that his body was in. Lacking the energy to curse or scream, it was all he could do to shut his eyes tightly and wait, but it did not simply go away. Slowly regaining control of his fingers, and then his hands, he clenched them into fists, the simple gesture offering a measure of respite, however minimal. But the pain lingered, across both of his arms, and his chest, and his back, and his head. His head especially. Though the sources of his other ailments were all physical, the excruciating pounding inside of his skull was by far what distressed him the most. He could not speak or even think, feeling as though he might pass out again at any moment.

This continued for an agonizingly long time - with no way to tell of its passing, the sorcerer had but his own malformed thoughts to give him order. With every breath he took, it felt as though burning embers found their way down his nose and into his lungs, adding another layer of torment.

Then, a voice spoke to him. At once his sense of touch seemed to dull, taking the pain away with it.

"Young Eisenwald, your lack of foresight disappoints me. Even transient beings such as yourself should be mindful of the consequences of their action." The voice spoke, a gentle feminine voice with an ethereal echo, which seemed to come at once from very far away and from the space surrounding him. Adrian opened his eyes and saw the radiant form of the ancient being that had offered him her protection and guidance in the past. Of course, every such boon had come with its own price, some steeper than others, and a direct intervention such as the one that had saved him from Necromancer would incur a steep cost indeed. But he was in no shape to question this, his thoughts disperse on account of his exhaustion. With his senses and instincts numbed as they were, he simply found himself admiring her beauty, rather than dreading the laws that governed her lonely, desolate world.

"No-ble... Rag-nir..." He attempted to greet her in accordance with tradition, only to go into a coughing fit as the noxious ash in his lungs smoldered and burned. The mystical entity in the guise of a woman simply paced around him, though whenever he looked at her, she did not seem to be moving at all.

"There is no need for you to speak, sorcerous mortal. On this occasion you are here as guest, not as visitor. Though this invitation does not come as a simple favor, as you know." Ragnirossa spoke calmly. "The hateful stain you created through my teachings cannot fall into another's hands, as we agreed before, yet you risked it in a battle you were destined to lose. I may have been able to save you this time, but the power that was spent in this endeavor must be restored." She stated, making a gesture towards the sorcerer. From beneath the ashes something black and ethereal emerged, shrouding Adrian's left arm, the one that his abuse of magic had seared. The dark essence flowed into his scars and latched onto him.

He felt nothing throughout the whole process, as his sense had not yet returned, but he could feel deep within that this was not another boon from the primeval goddess, but another shackle, the mark of another debt to be paid. A consequence of his folly and his petty attempt at vengeance.

"You will find out how to accomplish this soon. For now rest, young mortal. When you next awaken, you will have returned to your own realm."

As the words uttered came to an end, Adrian realized that he was completely alone in that ashen ruin of a world, the feeling of isolation so pervasive that he could not help but think that he had always been alone in that place. The last thing he saw before his consciousness faltered and his eyes closed once more was the sunless horizon of rust and smoke above, all too familiar and yet so strange. An endless sky of a world that did not belong to man.

Then all went dark.

---

October 31st

---

Though there was no way of knowing how much time had passed in that other world so far removed from his own, when Adrian next awoke, only one day had passed and he found himself curled up on between a dumpster and a fire escape on a dark alley in San Diego. His rest had been more peaceful than the last time, but as he tried to rise from the ground, he suddenly felt an intense burning in his throat and lungs, going into a coughing fit. Specks of blood stained the floor red as he tried to control his body's own reflexes and suppress the aching sensation. After a few moments, he managed to control himself.

"Helvete... that stupid noxious ash... if I had known, I would have brought a mask." He muttered to himself in frustration.

The events of the previous day, if he could call it that - from Necromancer's completely unexpected arrival to Ragnirossa's miraculous intervention - seemed incredibly surreal to him, but after years of practicing magic and everything that such a thing entailed, he had overcome the natural human impulse to deny that which seemed unlikely. A simple glance at his body was enough to confirm the events of that day as well - his clothes were still tattered, his body was still scarred, and his arm bore the black marks of whatever fell payment the goddess had exacted.

Not his worst Monday, all things considered.

Finally getting to his feet, he shifted his form to conceal the scars incurred during his last battle, just like he had done with many others he had acquired over the years, and then made his way out of the dark alley and onto the streets of the condemned district. A scraggly looking lunatic with a cape and a sword walking barefoot through the city - the mystery of what happened to his shoes would have to be solved some other time - was an odd sight for sure, but as it was nighttime in one of the most dangerous places in the city, the few people on the streets at the time did their best to keep to themselves.

A short trek later, he finally reached his hideout, the old house in the condemned. He could feel that the protective wards were still in place after those three months away, which thankfully meant that there would be no nasty surprises to deal with. Relieved, the young man hurried inside.

The interior looked largely the way he remembered it, nothing too fancy, but far better than the illusion outside would suggest. He did not tarry, however, immediately going about the tasks ahead of him. He needed to secure the cursed blade in his vault once more, as well as treat his wounds and cleanse himself from the desert sand, the otherworldly ash and whatever else he had on him after all of his battles. Then, once all of that was done, he would have to find his friends. They were his most reliable source of information about the happenings in San Diego and the movements of the heroes that lived there, but it was clear that neither of them were home at the moment, likely enjoying the night of Halloween outdoors.

Fortunately, he had a good idea of where one of them would be.

---

To the fanatics of the San Diego underground fighting ring scene, it seemed as though the masked monster known as Typhon had finally met his match in the arena. It was the biggest brawl of the night, with the rising legend being pitted against a powerful upstart who called himself King Crusher. From the start, it had seemed like a losing battle for Typhon. King Crusher's power seemed to allow him to throw his foe this and that way on a whim, as evidenced by the numerous craters that were now visible on the floor and walls of the arena, and whenever the masked fighter attempted to retaliate, the challenger used those same powers to exert an immense pressure on him, making it incredibly difficult to move.

That was exactly what was happening at the present moment. On one end of the arena, King Crusher stood calmly, one hand extended towards his foe while the other was placed on his hip nonchalantly, the young man trying to keep an air of cool indifference in spite of the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. On the other, Typhon struggled to put one foot in front of the other, his face scrunched into a deep scowl underneath his cracked mask and every muscle in his body tensed up beyond what was possible for a normal human, all in a supreme effort to move towards his enemy and turn the fight around. His intense glare was fixed on King Crusher's trench coat clad figure, and he managed to take a step towards him against all odds, and then another.

The crowd seemed to be heavily invested in the moment, nary a sound heard from them as tension hung in the air.

"Come on man, just give up! You're just a meathead, you can't beat me!" King Crusher shouted at his enemy, irritated by his unwillingness to capitulate and let him claim the prize money. Typhon said nothing in response, simply taking another step towards him, his actions speaking for themselves.

It was a long shot for sure, but over the course of the battle, he had noticed something - where at the start of the battle he had been unable to move at all when under the effects of King Crusher's powers, he was now able to slowly take a step. The second step faced less resistance than the first, and the third less than the second. If the trend continued, then surely it was only a matter of time.

The upstart seemed to realize this as well, cursing loudly and thrusting his free hand forward as well in order to slow him down, though at this point even that was not enough to stop Typhon's inexorable march, the pale warrior smiling under the mask as he moved closer and closer to his target.

When he had crossed a little over half of the arena, King Crusher lost his patience. "You stubborn fucking bastard!" He shouted as he thrust his right hand upwards, causing his enemy to float up into the air instead. He hoped that this would make the man easy pickings, and with his left hand, he caused several rocks scattered throughout the arena to begin floating into the air, rapidly accelerating towards Typhon. Far from being helpless, however, he slammed his fist into the first boulder that neared him, shattering it and causing a cloud of dust to cover the area. He continued to protect himself this way, punching and kicking with enough force to destroy each and every projectile - any damage incurred by his hands and legs was quickly healed.

Unable to see what had become of his foe through the thick cloud of rock dust that shrouded him, King Crusher let his guard down, a fatal mistake. Suddenly, part of one of the boulders he had thrown against Typhon was hurled back at him like a bullet, slamming into the floor in front of him and exploding into a myriad fragments, some of which scratched his arms and face. So distracted, he was unable to react as Typhon landed and began running towards his foe unimpeded, using the dust as a cover. By the time King Crusher saw him, it was too late - he was unable to react and protect himself from the devastating uppercut his foe unleashed upon him, which sent him flying into the air as the masses cheered.

Again Typhon proved the victor, and was promptly handed the prize money - five grand in total - by the man who hosted the blood sport. After basking in his glory for a moment, the victor made his way out of the arena amidst the cheering of the thrilled crowd.

As he left the clandestine stadium discreetly and found himself back in the streets, however, he was greeted by a familiar face.

"Adrian! It's been forever! I thought you were joking when you said you'd be gone two months, we were thinking two weeks, tops." The brunet spoke, walking forward and putting up his fist, which Adrian promptly bumped with his own. "Where the hell have you been?"

"You know, here and there, making sure that there's no assholes in cloaks trying to kill us." The white-haired young man replied nonchalantly, not keen on giving too many details that were not terribly relevant either way. "Win something big tonight?"

"Oh, yes. Five grand. Should be enough to get Astrid something nice." Lucas replied with a big grin. "Say, do you think I should open a savings account?"

Adrian blinked at the question. "I... probably, but ask someone who knows about that. I'm a wizard, not a banker." He replied, before gesturing to the streets ahead. "Anyway, let's go somewhere we can grab dinner and talk, I've been gone for a while and I have a lot I want to ask."

Lucas shrugged. "Sure. Astrid's out with her new friends so we can go to that Mexican place she doesn't like. I've been craving a quesadilla the whole week."

And with that, the two young men made their way out of the condemned district, talking all the while.

[Bentus]

Yoshiro Namaka - aka Psyche
Quito, Ecuador

---

While the team seemed to immediately rally behind Renata as word of the coup attempt trickled in through their phones and the television screen, Yoshiro remained silent as a frown edged its way onto her features.

She and Ash had managed to enter the lobby just in the closing moments of the fight, and they’d both quickly caught on to the dangerous turn that their vacation had taken. Seeing the unconscious bodies of soldiers mixed with the piles of organic goop from all the clones, it was clear that the Young Bloods in the hotel had already been through a serious fight. Seeing them running high off of the adrenalin of their victory, and eager to push their advantage to go after whoever had tried to attack one of their own, Yoshiro didn’t immediately want to speak up. Remaining silent and to the side of the lobby, she nervously glanced towards Renata. The heroine was being surrounded by their friends, each of them offering their support to her in their own way, and each of them pledging to do whatever it took to ensure that no harm came to her father. Even Blackout was there, and the sight of him hugging his girlfriend caused Yoshiro to glance away in a moment of embarrassment.

While the rest of the team wasted no time in jumping to Renata's side, Yoshiro felt more hesitant. Wasn't this more complicated than the usual hero and villain affair that they dealt with? There were going to be people on both sides who saw themselves as being in the right, and their team would be judged by the entire world in how they decided to respond. Their country may be judged in how they decided to respond, and Yoshiro hardly wanted to be in the center of an international incident, regretting it for the rest of her life. But she still didn't feel like she had entirely re-earned the trust of the team. If she spoke up, would they see it as another sign that she wasn't as ready as they were to be on the frontlines?

“Hey, Rocket?” Yoshiro said, calling out over the excited chatter of the team as they planned their next moves. She offered their de facto team leader a faint smile as she gestured over her shoulder. “Could I talk to you in private for a bit, just for a second?”

[Zarkenis Ultima]

November 19th

---

---

Kirisvala watched as once more the dialogue between the mysterious hotel receptionist and Renata became the center of the team's attention. She sadly wasn't able to follow very well, since she knew very little of Quito, the Condors, or Ecuador as a whole, but she did raise an eyebrow slightly as she listened. For a guy who worked as a simple receptionist, the man seemed conveniently, almost eerily well informed, as if he had been placed there by a higher power to inform them of the situation in the rest of the city or something of the sort. She supposed she had no reason to complain about it, though, considering it was working out to their advantage, but still, she couldn't help but wonder. Who was this receptionist guy?

That doesn't matter right now. Focus on what does! The tower, or the palace?

It was an important decision. Each destination came with its own objective and, likely, its own challenges. While the palace team's goal was straightforward in that they were to try relieving the pressure put on the Condors by the troops besieging Carondelet Palace, the tower team's goal was more complex and delicate, although they were likely to see less resistance than the other team. It was a matter to be carefully weighed.

"I'll head to the palace with you." Spoke up the first person in the group to volunteer for shock troop duty, ironically not a Young Blood himself. Icarus seemed confident in his choice, offering his girlfriend and the rest of the team a resolute nod. "I've got enough charge in my batteries to last for a while, and Torres' troops don't seem to have cut off the city's power grid, only the communications." He quickly explained his reasoning, which was easy enough to follow. "My constructs can help with offense and defense alike, so it only makes sense for me to go."

His logic was sound and the way he seemed to decide based on his abilities and what he could contribute rather than any other selfish reason - though she had no doubts his desire to protect Renata played into it as well - prompted her to do the same. She was a decent fighter, but her magic also gave her a lot of versatility that could be helpful in regrouping and keeping her friends safe. With that in mind, she made her choice.

"I'll go to the tower with Mizu!" She said resolutely. "I can help get us there safely with my magic, and when we're done I can keep track of where Renata is and get us there so we can regroup." She explained. "I'm sure I can be more helpful on the way to the tower than if I went to the palace."

[New Neros]

The Ultra Corps vs Mark Nemo

Gerard Murphy leaned in close to Mark and soft quickly, quietly, and with intent. “You’re going to have to trust me and Regis, and that’s the end of it. Things aren’t going to go the way we want, but there’s nothing we can do about that. We have plans in motion but we cannot disclose them right now, I’m sorry, I wish I could, but that’s just how it has to be.”

The past few minutes have been an absolute blur for Cosmic, one moment he was fast asleep and the next he was standing before an interstellar tribunal, arms and ankles in power-nullifying cuffs. Captain Murphy served as his defender, an unknown corpsman was his prosecutor, and the Hadrian Zodiac-level Ultra Corps member Regismora served as judge with three subordinate officers in attendance. Mark yawned ingloriously, shaking his head side to side. “I trust you.” He said flatly, “Just make it so I don’t have to pay a fine, Cap’n.”

Captain Murphy clapped his shoulder fiercely, “Good man, I’ll make sure you don’t pay a cent, but they are going to drag you and I can’t do anything about that.” He turned to face Regis and her three officers, each of whom wore an aged, experienced face and were selected by the powers that be for this specific trial. “My client and I are ready to proceed, your honor.”

Regismora stiffen a bit and nodded, “Very well,” She spat, standing briefly. “I have assembled three officers of adjacent sectors to assist me in deliberation and considerations within this case. They are impartial, their rank irrelevant, and we have taken a solemn oath to faithfully execute justice according to the evidence, our conscience, and the laws applicable. Do you have any objections or questions for the officers I have gathered?”

“I have none, your honor.” Murphy declared, casting a glance at the opposition.

“May you list their names for the record, your honor?” Prosecutor Irving asked.

“They are Hezboldt Garbandian, Tal-Ahn-Ful, and Pio Daldala. They hail from surrounding sectors near where the operative known as Cosmic operates, but have not interacted with the corpsman in any meaningful way. Does the defense request a sole judge to determine their fate or by our gathered panel?”

“The panel will be fine, I have no challenges, your honor.”

“Very well. Let us begin with Prosecutor Irving, if you’d please present evidence of the charges laid against Mark Nemo, also known as Cosmic.”

“Certainly,” Irving was a gray humanoid, tall and thin and armed with four exceptionally long fingers as Mark noticed, one of which pointed in his direction. “A rookie by all measures, reckless to a fault, none of which describe a well-to-do corpsman within our organization. Mark Nemo is accused of using the Ultra Force granted to all of us for personal gain and against civilians of a non-Ultra protected world, a world that falls under the Hadrian wing by treaty rights.” Irving began to pace slowly, waving his hand over a small orb in the center of the room and activating a moderately sized hologram. Freeze frames of Cosmic in action from his first night back in San Diego during the Cabal’s assault all the way to the fiasco at the Mall and every instance of him in motion with his powers between showed in full 3D were shown to the court.

“He was trained by Lockjaw of all people, a man who has consistently produced corpsmen who have disregard for the rule of law and our order of operations. His own squad consists of a maverick captain and her hooligan followers.”

“Objection.” Murphy hollered, “Cosmic’s training and squad are not in question, his crimes are on trial here.”

“They are factors at play, Captain Murphy.” Irving retorted.

“Sustained,” Regismora ordered, “Mark Nemo’s crimes are under deliberation, not his upbringing, training, or assignment. Neither is his acquisition of his conduit - several members have attained their own connection to the Ultra Force under similar circumstances.” Her three officers agreed and some wrote a few choice words down as she finished speaking, “Continue, prosecutor.”

“Very well,” Irving got on with it, selecting a few choice events from the past few months. “Let us begin with Cosmic’s common nickname outside of Earth, shall we? He’s grown a bit famous in his few short months away from home, after all. He is the ‘Demon of Terra’, correct? A fearsome warrior to cause dread and fear, quite befitting of a justice-seeking corpsman, no? The man is shown using his powers while on vacation in order to conduct vigilantism, he’s joined a group of young heroes and continued to use the Ultra Force without authorization and with disregard for the treaty world he hails from.”

“And even while using the powers he was granted, Mark has shown disregard for his own safety, the safety of his conduit, the sanctity of his position, the honor of the Corps, and most disturbingly, disregard for a young female heroine on the hero team he had joined from his hometown when they fought in a tournament some time ago.” A clip showed on repeat and from different angles as Mark viciously blasted Ashen Moth during the NASL Tournament in New York, causing Cosmic to bow his head and curse under his breath.

Murphy leaned over to him and hissed, “Really, man? What the fuck…”

“I know, I know, I was being a fuckhead, my mind was all dumb. They made me go to therapy for it, suspended me, and almost kicked me out for it. It was a mistake that I already got punished for, that’s like double jeopardy right?”

“Kinda, but Young Blood Naja scolding and Ultra Corps Court Martials aren’t exactly the same justice circuit. At least you apologized for it.”

“I, uh, never really got around to doing that.” Mark admitted.

“Holy shit kid…”

Irving continued his triad and railing against the young hero, providing each instance of power use and collateral damage or personal damage it caused, Cosmic actually becoming intrigued at the level of insight and angles he had been recorded on. When he learned that they were creative recreations for the most part, he got dismayed, hoping he could get a copy of the video for a highlight reel.

“Though his crimes are numerous and apparent, I do believe Mark Nemo is able to be rehabilitated and reconditioned to rejoin the Corps at a later date. For that, I am pushing for a punishment in the form of imprisonment and removal of conduit for a minimum of two years. I believe self-reflection and maturity can be found in that time, and the support centers offered to Mark will produce a strong, stable corpsman in due time. I will take my rest, your honor.”

“Intriguing and eye-opening to say the least, Prosecutor Irving.” Regis commented, “Captain Murphy, do you have a defense for these broad accusations levied against Cosmic?”

“Never before the course of our long history has the time for heroes been so demanding, so challenging, and so divisive as here and now. What drives us forward is the pursuit and procurement of justice for all sentient life as we know it, and in that forever-push forward, our trusted colleague Cosmic has been the most relentless. Barely an adult by his species’ standards, Mark Nemo has answered a higher calling to uphold liberty and justice that many of us have failed to abide by. His own vacation was spent doing as he does best, ensuring peace and prosperity can be reasonably achieved.”

“You may fault him for his rash youth, for his poor judgement, questionable fashion sense, but you may not fault him for his heroism and bravery in the face of adversity and evil. He is a good friend and ally, a valuable teammate to his squad in the Ultra Corps and even his squad in the Young Bloods. In each instance of his own failure, he was appropriately reprimanded and punished, as well as learned from his shortcomings.”

“...Fashion sense?” Mark thought to himself.

“My client faces mental issues unrelated to his work environment that can at times impair his judgement and reasoning. He is medicated, attends therapy, and does everything in his power to keep his own mind in check so that he can continue to be the best that he can be. We must not make an example of him, we must ensure he gets the help he needs and can serve in the Corps faithfully. A pause of even two years as Irving suggests would impair his ability to conduct heroism and place all of us in grave risk without another friend and ally at our side. I plead with you all, look into your own deeds, ask yourself if you too would do the right thing even if it meant going against what you’re taught and believe. Mark made his decisions and increased the good in his homeworld, not just a Hadrian treaty world as the prosecution so mildly assigned it. Would you not do the same? Would you not be the hero to children in need, a friend to your peers? I suggest acquittal, a verbal reprimand and remedial training to better assist us in our mission. Thank you, the defense rests.”

As the officers began to discuss among themselves, Regis included, Mark leaned forward and hissed at Captain Murphy. “Hey asshole,” He began, “How come we didn’t have cool holograms of me saving kittens and helping old ladies across the street?”

“First, have you done either of those?”

“No.”

“Second, I didn’t have time to make a slideshow recreation of you. I was told I was defending you about fifteen minutes before you got here.”

“Huh… Wait, aren’t I supposed to be able to choose my defense in a court?” Mark asked.

“Technically yes, but think about it. Irving came prepared with a case against you ready to strip you of your powers and throw you in prison. A special prison for wayward corpsmen who’ve done bad things, which tends to radicalize and indoctrinate the parolee’s into following one Zodiac in particular: Holofernes. They’re eyeing you, they want to recruit you for something, but we can’t lose you just yet. They knew Regismora was here on an unofficial visit and planned to force her to make a judgement on you by sending that squierrly, gray, long-fingered fuck. It’s the law that the highest commanding officer in the area presides over such a court martial, and if they didn’t like the outcome, they’d have a reason to bring her to trial in front of the other Zodiacs instead. You ended up in their secret wars, but we want you on our side still. Just trust us, I swear.”

Before Mark could respond, Regismora cleared her throat and called the court to attention. “My fellow officers have reached a judgement in regards to Cosmic and the accusations standing before him. Taking into consideration his utilization of powers without authorization on a Hadrian treaty world which also happens to be his homeworld, while also considering that his use was mostly in the heroic sense and as his homeworld’s sports which feature other similarly powered heroes, we have decided the following: Mark Nemo will not face imprisonment, he will receive an official reprimand to his record, and hereby stripped of his Ultra Force conduit until a satisfactory series of evaluations can be made to ensure he is fit and able to continue service. Our voting was three to one on this judgement, passing the two-thirds needed to convict and issue appropriate punishment.”

“Bailiff,” Regis ordered, a stout, four-armed dwarf materializing in the court room at her command, “Remove his conduit, heal the wound, and place the conduit in a secure location.” Nodding, the short-statured humanoid approached Mark callously and extended his finger tips aggressively at Cosmic’s chest, impaling the young hero and clutching the glowing orb at the center of his chest. Removing the glittering object in one fluid motion, Mark dropped to his knees, groaning in pain and bleeding profusely. With one of his other hands, the bailiff emitted a soft green glow while touching Mark’s head, patching up the hole in his chest in real time, leaving a hole exposing his bare chest. Stepping away from Mark, the dwarf grabbed a nondescript suitcase and placed the orb in it unceremoniously, flying up to place the container on Regismora’s desk.

“Thank you. Mark Nemo, we will be in contact shortly, for now, we will return you to Earth.”

---

After a flash of light, Mark and Murphy appeared outside of Wonder Tower without the formers’ restraints and nullifiers. “What the fuck was that!” He demanded, snatching the slightly taller Captain by his collar and dragging him to face level, “Your grand master plan got me fucked out of my Ultra Force conduit, asshole!”

“I told you to trust me, dumbass!” Captain Murphy replied, “Plans! In! Motion!”

“Man, fuck your plans!” Mark yelled back, “You fucked me out of a job, congratulations, prick.”

“I kept you out of prison and out of a fine, aren’t you happy?”

“No, coming to the Corps was the best shit that ever happened to me and I lost it because two cock-monglers wanted to have a pissing contest over me doing… what exactly? Hero shit? Fuck it, fuck that, and fuck you.” He gave Murphy the finger and started to walk away.

“Isn’t your house right behind us?” He asked.

“Suck the entire length of my dick, Murphy. I’m going to go walk and think before coming back. Just fuck off already, you’ve done enough.” Mark stormed off with Gerard not getting much in edgewise, sighing and shaking his head. It’ll all make sense to Mark soon, he just had to have faith for a little bit to make things work out. For the time being, Mark will have to make do with being a powerless teen in San Diego, however, and once more prowling the night to clear his head.

[Tomia]

Mars, November 19th
Mars listened to Kiris offer to take the radio tower with Mizu. It made sense strategically, her ability to travel quickly would be very helpful. "I'll go with Renata to find her father." He offered. He didn't love the idea of separating from Kiris after all but he figured it made the most sense. He was playing more of a support role given his current equipment and assuming Icarus would be accompanying Renata they had plenty of attack power and would be more in need of some versatility. "I'm not exactly in my most punching state, but I'll be able to keep the fighters out of harms way."

As the conversation continued Mars found himself pulled to the side by Yoshi, who asked if she could speak to him privately. "Oh, sure thing Yoshi!" Mars replied to her. He hadn't really been expecting it, but he certainly wasn't going to say no as he followed Yoshi away from the team. Once they were a safe distance away he turned to his teammate. "So what did you want to talk about?" He asked her. Yoshi had been away from the team for a bit and had been slowly working her way back. He hoped something wasn't going haywire with her again, that was the last thing she or the team needed. By the way she had smiled it didn't seem like it was disaster level urgent but Mars was still curious.

[Finland SSR]

The Ultra Corps vs Mark Nemo

---

Marcella Salazar, the beautiful Changeling!

---

Sometimes, Marcy regretted killing off Stage Fright.

No, not because she took the woman's life, just remembering the fearful face and screams would rejuvenate the multicolored lady on a rainy day. But rather because now that she has experienced life after service to Stage Fright, she had to conclude that her decision was far too hasty. Working for the mob was much worse. The uncouth barbarians which ran the criminal gangs across San Diego didn't even hold the pretense that they partake in high villainy, they just brutishly want money and power.

Such thoughts came to her mind as Marcy made her way out of an ice cream store within the rugged blocks of San Diego, her left hand holding a suitcase and right an ice cream cone. Much like last month, the dear store owners knew their place, and as soon as they saw a representative from the mob, they handed over all the protection money they owed. Even added a scoop of ice cream as soon as the lady asked. How polite of them.

She had Miss Marionette now, sure... but she still had far, far to go. As of now, the Aveline scion was flawed, green, hardly treated with respect in the greater community of super-villains. She will become a great villain one day - How could she not? After all, I am working alongside her... - but it will take a long time.

What until then?

Marcy made her way across the street, only paying attention to her ice cream at first, only for her eye to suddenly catch a face on the sidewalk on the other side. A familiar one she remembered from the North American Super League Tournament - she didn't catch much of it, but she made sure to keep up with the matches which involved teams from Southern California, just so she could tell what her likely opponents will bring to the table when they cross paths...

Cosmic. It was Cosmic, of the Young Bloods. Not the easiest of his team to catch in a casual situation, but Marcy had an eye for things like that. At first, the villainess did not even turn her face, still keeping to finishing the last bits of her ice cream cone - in her mind, she weighed her chances and options. Capturing and kidnapping a Young Blood might be just the boost her and Marionette's duo need to return back to the public eye, but it carried its risks, especially as Cosmic was far from the weakest of his team.

As soo as she reached a street crossing, Marcy turned sharply and made her way to the other side. Her mind made its decision. And so, from a start of a hundred or so meters behind, she began following after the young superhero, gaining more and more with each step, using some of her costume's powers to hasten her pace. She'd turn her head to the side, glance off to the street, at the storefronts and into the front yards of surrounding houses. As the street moved deeper and deeper towards the residential areas, they grew more and more sparse, until they finally turned barren, empty, perfect.

She was getting close, too close to comfort. So it was about time to act.

Marcy strapped the suitcase to her torso and picked up her parasol, Rendezvous, off her belt, with a familiar popping sound. It immediately forced the woman to act - she lunged forward with superhuman speed to grab Cosmic's mouth from behind and pull him down, push him onto her chest and press her parasol onto the hero's neck.

"Don't... move..."

The blade sticking out of the tip of the parasol glimmered in the streetlight.

[United Kingdom of Poland]

“You’ll need me over at the radio tower to get everything back up and running after we take it back.” Wendy replied, tying the last of the guards up. “And you should do the same Rocket, seeing as your the only engineer on this trip and we might need to jerry rig something together to get it working. ”

Grabbing a couple of their communication devices, she held them up to her face as her eyes began to glow. “Don’t even bother, little girl.” One of the soldiers began to gloat. “Those are-”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘military grade encryption’.” Wendy grumbled, causing the man to shut up. “Honestly translating this through highschool spanish is more of a roadblock than piss poor excuse you call encryption.”

She handed one of the devices over to Renata. “This will let us keep an ear on what the coup forces are planning. Don’t worry, I disabled the mics so we don’t have to worry about accidentally transmitting.” She took a second, thinking of what to say next. Sure Renata wasn’t always the easiest person to get along with, but she was still a teammate, and on occasion could even be called her friend. “Don’t worry,” She said, putting a hand on Renata’s shoulder. “We’ll make sure your dad’s in one piece, and make these bastards pay for messing with you.”

[The Rebel Alliances]

Benjamin Butler/Riot

They always make it look cool in the movies. The hero camped out on a building's roof top as he gazes intently on the city he protects below while he awaits his target in a stake out. In reality well...stake outs are incredibly damned boring. And my ass certainly is not perched up on a gargoyle for cool points either. The crunch of Doritos is a reminder of that as I pace back and forth while I wait for whoever comes by to collect the protection money that this particular ice cream shop owes. As for the reason for my intense boredom tonight there is a new enforcer in the local gangs who arrived and found employment shortly after I left. The enforcer in question by all appearances does not look like she belongs in the middle of a gang but a fashion show or some high modeling career. Of course that seems to be a growing trend as my target tonight is the second villain to fit a description like that. Finishing the bag of chips and wiping the nacho residue on my jacket as I tossed the bag to the side my eyes fell upon the ice cream shop once more. Reminding me of the irony of the situation. About a year ago I was sent to this place a few times to collect on the protection money. Now, I am here to ambush 'Changeling' as she exits the small business. I then broke eye contact with the business as I went back to pacing back and forth a bit as after roughly three hours or so of waiting around was wearing on me. It was then that I came across my 'Riot' mask which sat on the roof as I had removed it to enjoy the snack I just finished. The sight of the mask reminded me why I was up here at all as my mind flashed back to a few months back.

The Outriders were at their height coming off of a string of high profile assaults and battles against every major crime ring at the same time. I was a fairly high enforcer for a large gang back then. I had been in a couple of shootouts and I had killed a handful of people in gang hits. Seen death and been around it and caused it. And there were times I was afraid. But it wasn't until the rampage of the Outriders was loose when I was truly scared shitless for the first time in my life. Sure there are the cops, been jailed a couple times and bailed out on both and beat the charges. I was a valuable asset to my gang and they made sure I had excellent representation. Then there was the Young Bloods, crossed one of them once. Managed to get away with a decent beating that time. But that was the worst of it.

Bruises, cuts, fractured rib and a mild concussion was the worst of it. I knew that when I came face to face with Vendetta and her Outriders the 'worst of it' would not have me walking away. And it was only a matter of time. I wasn't the only one who felt that way either. Any woman who was not afraid to make enemies with the most powerful forces in the underground was not a force to be screwed with. I knew a few associates whom waited too long to quit. They already had their turn in the ring with her and came up dead. So, I quit. I figured Vendetta and her team would be killed eventually but I was never a gambling man and didn't want to risk my life span against hers. So in that way...Vendetta saved my life. Even as she ended so many others. And when I left I had absolutely no intention of going back into crime and certainly had no plans to take up vigilantism. But things change. Vendetta died...the Outriders disappeared...and the gangs and mobs came back out of hiding. Only this time they went to war with each other after their truce against the Outriders had ended. With each hoping to take the power vacuum which was created. And so here I am, risking my own life to hopefully bring some semblance of peace back to these streets. Perhaps the Young Bloods could do this, but most of them are on vacation somewhere.

The sight of Changeling snapped me out of my thoughts.

Finally.

The girl carried a briefcase in one hand and a signature ice cream in the other as she seemed to be as bored as I am. Well, things are about to liven up I thought to myself as I snatched up my mask and placed it over my face. Pulling two pairs of brass knuckles from my jacket and slid them over my fingers and clenched my fist. I also carried a 9mm pistol which was tucked into a holster on my right pants leg if the situation called for it as well as a vial of Bane tucked into my jacket in case the situation really called for it. Changeling from the rumors I have heard is not the kind of person I would lose sleep over if I ended up killing her. No known close family and whose only friend is one of the worst sociopaths San Diego has in Marionette. She never speaks a word and seems to only be having fun when things get violent. But that's almost all that I know. I don't even have a full understanding of how her abilities work. I activated my silent field as I prepared to descend down the fire escape and down to the street below to pursue her and take her by surprise as I noticed her attention grabbed by a teenage boy walking down the sidewalk. It only took me a moment to recognize that she had decided to stalk the man which meant nothing good. I hastened my descent and jumped down to the street below making not a sound as my powers ensured I was completely silent.

I then ran down the street as I approached Changeling from behind. But I was a distance behind her as I was just starting to close the gap as she reached her target. Grabbing him from behind and revealing a bladed parasol she held to his neck. I ran as fast as I could as I finally reached her from behind locking my arm around her parasol arm while my left arm secured her left arm hoping to have taken her by surprise and provide the boy a chance to get away.

Problem is I have absolutely no idea if my grip can hold her. She is certainly smaller in stature but she could have the strength of ten men for all I know.

[Bentus]

Yoshiro Namaka - Psyche
Ecuador

---

Yoshiro’s heart skipped a beat as Mars used her real name, and her eyes immediately darted towards the still-conscious soldiers. Biting her lip, she silently prayed that they hadn’t been paying close enough attention to catch on the slip up, but her worries about this whole situation only deepened as she imagined what the consequences could be. These weren’t some small time criminals, they were an army. And if they ended up winning against Renata’s father, who knew what lengths they might go to in order to punish those who stood against them. The last thing that Yoshiro wanted was to have people like that know who she was...know who her family were.

“Rocket, it’s Psyche.” Yoshiro said once they were far enough away from the others, a pleading look in her eyes. She knew that he hadn’t meant any harm with it, and that it was an innocent mistake, but it was still important to her. Even though most of the team had blended their heroism with the real lives, not all of them either wanted that or had the option. “But...that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Glancing past the team’s de facto leader, Yoshiro bit her lip as she saw the rest of the Young Bloods already leaping into action. Despite the arguments and friction that often existed between them, as soon as one of their number needed help, or was threatened, they didn’t hesitate for a second before banding together. And that was what made the nagging doubts in her stomach all the more severe.

“Should we really be doing this?” Yoshiro eventually said, keeping her voice low enough so that the others wouldn’t hear. “I mean, I want to help Stella. Really, I do. And I can’t imagine what she must be going through right now. But this isn’t as clear cut as our other missions, is it? We’re talking about getting involved in a coup, with people on both sides probably looking to kill those on the other. If we get in the middle of all that…” The telepath hesitated, her words getting stuck for a moment in her throat. “If we help the Condors, and we find out that they killed people, won’t some of that blood be on our hands?”

[Finland SSR]

Renata Martinez, the heroic Stella!

---

With the two groups assembled and each of their goals clear, Renata picked up the communicator Wendy handed to her, looking away with a faint smile when the girl assured her that everything will go alright. Wendy would often come off rather harsh to her, but even if she assures her, then how could this go anything but right?

Mizu would have to take some charge in the radio tower mission, and while Renata could not be around to help, for once she suppressed any worries she had and showed a thumbs up before departing.

They all risked their lives for her, so the least she could do was trust in them.

---

As their team was getting closer and closer to the tower, they'd see a much different Quito than what they could witness throughout the day prior. The streets were now barren of civilians, those who weren't sleeping shut themselves in their homes and apartments, either because they didn't want to fall into the maelstrom taking place or they simply followed orders.

Every once in a while, an armored personnel carrier would drive past, or a trio of soldiers without insignia would rush their way through the street, called up to reinforce the situation elsewhere. Mizu's illusion ensured that none of them would pay any attention to the team, however - they couldn't be aware of their presence, save for the senses which her illusions did not account for. Smell, touch... but as long as none of them butt heads with an APC, it should be fine.

Still, the girl ran with her body tense, hands clenching onto the paper Renata handed to her. The fear was irrational, perhaps, but how could you not be anxious when you are thrust onto a battlefield? Especially when this entire night felt like it was way over their heads...

"It should be just a street up ahead," the purple-haired girl called out, turning to the rest of the group and pointing towards the Tower. By now, it stood as an impressive gigalith, standing above all other buildings in its vicinity and reaching so high that one needed to raise their head as far as they could to see the top. Granted, most of that height was merely steel beams and wires with nothing inside.

The tower had been mostly abandoned by General Torres's goons, only four were still inside - but they were no ordinary grunts. For years, the villains of Ecuador had learned to fear the name of the Cuenca Colorados - a youth team, sure, but one which could fight toe to toe against any super in the Outskirts Battledome - and now, they were ready to rise into action.

Psycho arose from his long time meditating, the psionic's senses alarming him of a large group approaching their position. Without a word spoken, he walked past Shadowbolt and Firestone, who were passively playing with cards on the floor while waiting for time to pass, and stopped next to Element - holding up his sniper rifle, he stood by one of the open windows, watching the panoramic view with a bored expression on his face, his eyes often darting towards the game in the phone in his hand.

"What is it now?" Element called out when Psycho stopped by, grabbing the rifle by the barrel and shifting its aim. The street leading towards the tower was empty, sure, but that only meant that whoever was leading the attacking party was able to hide their presence. It appears that Martinez's goons failed to account for their extrasensory presence, however...

"Open fire, now," the psionic stated. Element knew better than to question his wisdom, and so he burrowed in his pocket and pulled out an empty round. The super blew into it, it getting covered in a thin sheath of ice, and loaded it into the rifle.

Down in the street, Mizu briefly turned towards the rest of the group, to check whether they weren't missing anyone - exactly the moment when the round struck her. It didn't pierce or even wound her - instead, upon impact, the girl was frozen over by a thin sheath of ice and was locked in place completely, petrified in the same turned stance and mildly surprised expression she was at the moment she was hit. No longer maintained by Mizu's thoughts, the illusion vanished instantly, and a trio of soldiers standing by a lamppost awaiting orders immediately grabbed their guns and barked:

"HEY! Freeze!"

"Heh, nice... Did you know which of them was cloaking them or was that just a wild guess?" Element mumbled under his breath, then began flailing about, putting his phone and bag of potato chips away. "Shit, that means I'll have to start paying attention... uh..."

"What's happening?" Shadowbolt called out, dropping her cards on the floor and immediately standing up - Firestone immediately took the opportunity to lean in and peek what her opponent's hand had. "Someone gotta get punched?"

Psycho did not respond, merely pointed at the window and nodded, and that was all the orders Shadowbolt needed - sparks of electricity swirled around her and the woman burst through the stairs with the speed of lightning. Firestone stared from the stairs back to her teammates, sighed, put her cards down, and raised her hand to summon her steel hammer to her hand.

"Guess we should go down too, make sure she doesn't hurt herself."

---

The Independence Square and the boulevards which lead towards it were now a battlezone. Though the forces of General Torres aimed to surround the Carondelet Palace which stood before the Square, they faced more resistance than they anticipated. Some were agents of the Condor regime, be it from the National Superhuman Task Force or from the Army in general, refusing to surrender their Caudillo and taking the fight to the streets. Some were completely independent supers who basically made their way out of their homes to join the fight on one side or another. The reasons did not matter.

A small cake shop was tucked in deep inside the Square, between an apartment building for wealthy tourists and a general department store. A mere twelve hours ago, it served hungry and curious tourists some of the finest baking in the heart of Quito, but now, the tables have been tossed across the floor, littered with pastry and blood, and a chilling silence was in the air.

"Sorry, I... hope you're alright," Marina muttered in between heavy breaths, standing behind the wall next to the entrance door, loading her taser pistol with new rounds and wiping a trail of blood running past her cheek. Irene, still hiding behind the counter and carefully peeking from it, did not say anything just yet, so the blonde Bakeneko hybrid continued to small-talk:

"I promise, this usually isn't how my job goes, they jumped me by surprise as much as they did you."

"All those... action movie fights look a lot less vicious on the TV..."

"Sure do..."

Marina peeked over the edge of the wall, glancing over the square to assess the situation ever since she barged in to her sister's shop to lose a pack of Torres' goons. The General himself and his closest lieutenants have already stormed the palace, its front door was blasted open, the walls were still charred from the blast, and a battle was ongoing inside. In the Square itself, two armored personnel carriers were parked on the opposite sides, machine gunners sitting on the top of them, scanning the surroundings for any suspicious activity. As for boots on the ground were concerned... The average soldiers didn't worry the catgirl that much, but the Task Force... From what she could tell, there were twelve of them in the Square in total, each one not only having a superpower to call their own, but also body armor to enhance their physical strength even further.

Those who were still fighting in the streets and among the trees, they weren't going to hold out for long.

Then, Marina's ears suddenly twitched. They caught the sound of a group of people coming towards the Square, and then, a familiar voice:

"The Palace is that way - right across the square. Father should be inside with the rest of his team... hopefully." It took a while for Renata and the Young Bloods who chose to go with her to reach the Independence Square, but now that they were here, only a few hundred meters were left.

But it was a few hundred meters with more than enough adversaries.

[New Neros]

-Changeling-

-Riot-

Mark Nemo

He was pissed, and rather than take his anger out on the city, he instead chose to take it out on himself. The right hands get paid and anything can just land in your lap, from a loaded pistol to a loaded bottle of vodka. Warm, room temp, Mark scoffed and shook his head at the 'heyyou' who pocketed his thirty dollars and gave him his fifth, disappearing into the night like they never met. Mark cracked open a cold can of Mountain Rush, off-brand Dew of course, and took a swig of his spirits greedily, chasing it with the sugar water to purge his mouth of the bitter taste. "Ahhh!" He hollered, shaking his head side to side, "Fuck," He spat as well, preparing another strong swig and chase.

That continued for a bit, up until Mark only had about half his bottle left and was stumbling around the streets and alleys of San Diego with a stupid grin on his face, his cheeks flushed and a whole heap of problems ready to unload. He hadn't drank in months, and hadn't been drunk in a year, before he joined the Corps. His joyous mood turned sour at the thought, but a quick sip of poison returned his good mood. What he needed was a quick come down, and finding a local vagrant was never very hard in this part of town, one willing to trade half a fifth for a cig and whatever else he had rattling in his pocket. Mark found a man and made a quick trade, lighting up a menthol and scoring a palm-sized flashlight, complete with batteries too.

His gait straightened as he walked the streets normally, having finished his cigarette in the alley before turning onto the main thoroughfare. His hand played with the flashlight in his pocket, feeling it's perfect grip in his hand and proper thumb placement, pulling it out and examining it now and again, unaware of his tail, and invariably, his tail's tail. Shoving it back into his sweatpants pocket but still fiddling with it, he figured it may look a bit odd to a passerby, like he was playing with his junk or something. He heard a click behind him, but wasn't able to turn and look before a hand came over his mouth, a feminine voice giving him a command to stay still, and a knife appearing at his throat.

"I wasn't playing with it, I promise," He said under her hand, muffled and unheard clearly. Mark didn't even hear the shuffle of feet behind his assailant before she too was off balance, allowing Mark to throw his head back away from the blade and duck down, removing his head from the woman's control. Leaping forward and turning around, he pulled the flashlight out of his pocket and flashed the girl in the face with the bright LED. "See? It wasn't my junk, it was a flashlight, I swear." He said, slurring his speech and shuffling left to right, misunderstanding the entire situation at play. "Wait, what the hell is going on?" He asked, seeing a masked man grabbing on the lady who just had a knife to Mark's throat.

"Who do I hit in the face?" He said with a smirk, clicking off his flashlight and putting his hands close to his face, feeling froggy and ready to fight all of a sudden, keeping his flashlight in his left-hand, "Because these hands are rated E for Everyone."

[United Kingdom of Poland]

Note to self. Wendy thought to herself as Mizu was flashfrozen and her teams disquise was blown. Bring robot murder puppy on all future team vacations, customs be damned. Admittedly she wasn't sure Spot wouldn't have been much help against the three superheroes and growing number of soldiers surrounding her little group. On the plus side at she was pretty sure they were all wearing the same communication devices as the hotel group, so she could whip up a quick distraction for them. Renata should have been out of range by now.

"Okay, I'm going to create a distraction." She whispered. "If anybody has any ideas for freeing Selene in about five seconds, go for it but be ready to fight after those five seconds are up. Bael, Crystal, you two got the two heavy hitters there. Psyche and I will take the small fry then get into the tower to deal with the sniper."

She hadn't been entirely true to Renata abut those mics. While they couldn't be voice activated anymore, they were still capable of transmitting. So when Wendy threw the sound of static at roughly 140 decibels through the local system, just about everyone in town wearing one of those headsets heard it. The soldiers and supers let out cries of pain as they clawed at the ear pieces. "Now." Wendy called out, racing towards the trio of soldiers.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

November 19th

---

---

---

Kirisvala trailed close behind Mizu as the purple-haired girl led them across the streets towards the radio tower. The atmosphere was extremely tense as they moved in plain sight, the moonborn's illusory powers keeping them concealed even as they walked past soldiers and armored vehicles alike, though it always was painfully clear that she was the only thing that saved them from having to fight their way to the tower past waves and waves of traitors. She tried not to think too much about it as they continued on - they'd deal with any issues as they arose, of course, but she trusted her teammate to ensure they were properly covered, and so, her focus was instead on making sure none of the soldiers wandered too close, lest they risk bumping into them. Fortunately, they managed to get most of the way through without anything going wrong at all. The tower was right there, just a street away.

Unfortunately, that was when trouble reared its ugly head. All of a sudden, Mizu was struck with some sort of attack that left her frozen solid, which left the Hadrian girl quite frightened. If she or Wyatt were hit with that, she wasn't sure they'd be able to keep going. More importantly, however, Mizu's predicament left the rest of the group with no illusory cover to hide them from the eyes of three nearby soldiers, who promptly raised their weapons.

The Hadrian girl was prepared to retaliate, and was just about to do so when she heard Wendy's voice and hesitated, stopping to listen to the brunette's words first. Her plan was sound, and though it left the question of how they were going to take care of the three soldiers so quickly, she decided to trust her teammate instead of questioning her and simply nodded. The two heavy hitters Wendy mentioned were two girls, one of them with sparks coming out of her and the other with a large hammer she seemed to wield fairly easily. She wasn't sure about the specifics of their powers, for obvious reasons, but the sight of the sparking girl was not worrying to her, and she was certain Wyatt could handle the other one.

With that in mind, as soon as Wendy's distraction kicked in, the heroine known as Crystal Heart darted towards Shadowbolt, aiming to deal the first blow.

[Finland SSR]

Benjamin Butler/Riot

Mark Nemo

Marcella Salazar, the beautiful Changeling!

---

What was supposed to be a perfect plan to kidnap the unfortunate Young Blood ended in failure - due to factors she failed to take account of, no less. Suddenly, Marcy's arm was pulled back by a man behind her, first the sword-wielding one, then the mouth-shutting one - quickly enough that by the time the villainess was able to react, the Young Blood had already escaped her grasp and was flashing her with a flashlight.

She was furious. How dare this... simpleton defy her planning? Her will?

Marcy did not rage, however, merely clenching her teeth. A gentle lady such as her must always appear calm and collected, and so she shall.

Suddenly, the villainess grabbed onto the hands which were locking her arms back, and with superhuman force, she pulled to lift the man over her head while ducking and sliding backwards - with one graceful maneuver, she aimed to reposition herself, freeing herself from the new arrival's grip and standing before both her victim and the interference.

Who was this vigilante who chose to intrude themselves so rudely, what issues if any did they have with the villainess Changeling, and what connections if any did they have with the Young Bloods, and this one in particular? Marcy knew the answer to none of these questions, and they hardly mattered. What mattered was this simpleton now stood in her way, and Cosmic chose to stay in the fight instead of running away.

After the backwards slide, Marcy rose to her feet and raised her parasol-blade, speaking:

"I don't care who you are, but you are in the way of my food. Leave, or suffer the consequences."

[The Republic of Atria]

Bael dropped the colonel at the hotel at the mercy of the staff. Whatever was going to happen to him, he had already washed his hands of it. The team had to split up, with one group headed to Silver's mansion and the other group heading to a radio tower. He figured that the mansion was already pretty well defended with the Condors, while Wendy was likely to be the one who did the tech stuff, so to him, it seemed she would be the one who needed a bit more protection. "I'm headed to the radio tower, they probably need the extra firepower." He turned to Renata just before he left with the rest of the group. "Get your dad back safely. That's an order." He said and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder before running after the group.

The radio group was shielded by Mizu, and Bael found it very odd that the soldiers were looking directly at them and not attacking and for a few moments, Bael thought that they would have the drop on them only for Mizu to be almost immediately frozen stiff, thus dropping their cover. Thankfully, Wendy managed to buy a few seconds by disrupting their radios, ordering him and Kiris to take out their supers. One of which was someone with what looked to be lightning powers, which it looked like Kiris had, which left him with the one with the large hammer.

"I already know the answer, but I figured I'd ask anyways: Any chance we don't have to go through with this?"

[Finland SSR]

Wendy

November 19th

---

Bael

The Champion Cuenca Colorados!

---

Wendy's sudden digital attack struck the communications of the three soldiers and they swiftly pulled them off their ears as soon as the burst of sound came - it was enough of a distraction for them to drop their aim on the Young Bloods, however. None of the Cuenza Colorados had anything on them which would get affected - and so, unabated by the attack, Shadowbolt burst out of the TV tower, the group of teens immediately in her sights.

Already, an opponent ran forth to meet her - a girl not much younger than her, with a distinct set of horns, claws and pink hair. The sudden lunge got Shadowbolt to break her pace, withdrawing her fist in order to catch the first slash with both of her hands.

"One of them... aliens, huh?" the heroine called out, backtracked a few steps, then confidently placed her hands on her hips and began zooming around the Hadrian girl. Moving as fast as lightning, she left afterimages and a distinct trail of electricity behind her, to the point where a veil of air saturated by electricity now surrounded the two of them. A person not immune to electricity would get zapped as soon as they tried to enter.

"Let's see if I can make you five regret your decision in record time," Shadowbolt continued before lunging at Crystal Heart herself, aiming to speed around the Hadrian girl and attack her from every direction possible.

Stay on your guard, there's more than just the five of them. Psycho's voice called out in the minds of the rest of his team. The psionic went down the tower not long after the two girls left, just in time to see Shadowbolt already fighting and Firestone approaching an another Young Blood - a Dra'Quinni, from the looks of it.

"Sure there is. There's always the option to kneel down and surrender," Firestone replied to her question, all while spinning the hammer in her hands and uring its sharp end to pick up a nearby car and toss it to the sky. "It'll sure be less painful than what we can do to you."

Fire up! she called in her mind, and Element followed, firing into the airborne vehicle - immediately, it set on fire, turning into a massive ball of flame and molten metal. Firestone smashed it with her massively empowered hammer, propelling it forward at the speed of a baseball, straight towards Bael.